Milk Crown on Sonnetica
by entrap
Summary: "Are you worried, Darach?" she asked. [Caitlin/Darach, pre-BW]


Darach was a quick worker. Within a day her clothes were folded neatly and her miscellaneous possessions packed into bags and suitcases, all sedate orderliness; Caitlin did not bring much, all things considered, and though she knew it was because her residential villa in Unova had already been accounted for and prepared in advance – aired out after summers of disuse, every speck of dust and disorder swept away until one could see their own face reflected on the floor tiles – it did not stop her from vaguely entertaining the image of herself as a bird leaving its nest, flying headfirst towards the awaiting unknown of a foreign region with nothing but her wit and knowledge to go by. The way she hadn't been allowed to as a young child (would probably never truly be allowed to, she thought as she regarded the castle she called home one last time, gazed upon her plush bed and high windows and endless empty hallways she used to hide in after a defeat that ended in tears and broken furniture, only for Darach to sneak up from behind her, patting her head and scolding her lightly between words of reassurance).

She had been a far more temperamental girl not too long ago, the kind who'd pout (or worse) when she hit a snag or when something failed to go her way. Darach was patient, quick to tend to her displeasure and give a refill to her cup of tea, smiling at her in that (sometimes triumphant, sometimes apologetic) way he did at the end of the battles he had with Lucas, regardless of whether he had delivered in his promise to show her a gleaming victory on his side or not.

But most people's tolerance could not stretch as thin. They avoided her, kept their conversations with her to a minimum of pleasantries both in the fear of her psychic powers retaliating and in the expectation that she was simply too caught up in her own pretensions to notice she was not especially well-liked.

For a long time none of it had bothered her. Caitlin had her castle, after all, and within it was a world wherein she had everything she could wish for. It was an isolated existence, to be sure, as gilded as it could be, and she'd be lying if she hadn't been beset with loneliness once or twice, wondering what it was about her that made her so hard to get along with.

But if she wanted a companion, if she wanted someone to sit beside her and listen to her woes and joys, then wasn't Darach sufficient enough for that? Her faithful butler with his endless restraint and soft words and endearingly sloppy attempt to keep his composure whenever she spared a moment to look him in the eye and praise him for the tea, for the wonderful battle he'd showed her, for being someone she could count on to be beside her and hold her hand through the good and difficult times both.

For a long time she had believed it to be enough. But now –

Caitlin looked up from now-empty cup of tea, lifting her chin and tilting her head just so that she was looking at Darach, who stood faithfully beside her, in the eye. The arena beneath her throne was empty today. The trainers had bid farewell, and now it was just them. In a day she would be sitting on a twenty-hour boat trip headed for Unova, as far away a place from him as any. Her mouth eased into a smile at the thought, her heart caught between feeling sad for having to leave and happy for the precise same reason, and for a millisecond she was distracted with the particular way he blinked and glanced away in response to her gesture, the only giveaway to her having made his steely calmness slip, even if for only a moment.

What would he think, she wondered, if he knew how much delight it would bring her to see that empire of stoicism crumble before her eyes?

"Are you worried, Darach?" she asked him. "That I will be leaving for Unova tomorrow?"

"Of course I am, Lady Caitlin," he replied, instantaneous and sure. "I have devoted not an insignificant number of years to ensuring your safety, your satisfaction, your amusement – abandoning my professionalism for a moment, I would think it is not an understatement to say that I gravely disapprove of your decision to insist and up and leave the region on such short notice, without someone to watch over you, no less." He ended his words with an inadvertent sigh that she could tell was one of tiredness.

"If you feel so strongly about it," Caitlin tested, "you could have insisted in turn for me to stay, or for you to go with me. Or," she paused, halfway fixated with scraping the tip of her fingernail against the smooth porcelain cup, "does your faith in me override the worst of your concerns?"

"How perceptive of you, my ladyship," he said. "I may not fully understand your reasons, but nevertheless I place my full trust in you that you do not mean to spend your time in Unova on frivolous, meaningless pursuits. And trust is sufficient enough for me not to impose my personal feelings upon your judgment."

"A flawless answer from a flawless butler. I could expect no less." She set her cup on the small table before her, pretending to be ignorant of the faint color rising to his cheeks. "But I wonder if you even have the slightest idea of what they are. My reasons, that is."

"I do not," conceded Darach, something in his eyes softening. "I cannot read minds, especially not the mind of a girl in possession of your… disposition. I was not born with powers such as yours, after all."

"I thought as much. But I thought you might be able to gander a guess."

"You know it is not in my nature to be presumptuous."

Of course he wouldn't, she thought. It would be terribly impolite of him to think that she might have wanted to leave because she had realized, after so long, her own inadequacies: her impatience and immaturity, her lack of real experience in pokémon battling. Realized that save for the advantage she had in being his employer, she was far from being the kind of woman fit for him to serve and fuss over – the kind of woman fit to reach the proper space he'd cautiously drawn between them and lace her fingers in the gaps between his own, to look up at him and be seen in turn not as a lady, a superior, not someone to be looked after from a distance and handle the way you would an ornate doll made of glass.

No, nothing like that: just Caitlin, no titles or honorifics necessary. That was what she wanted. But she couldn't say it to him. Not now.

"I'm sure." Her voice sounded fond. "Perhaps one day I might come back and tell you," she said. "Will you promise to wait for me until I do?"

"Of course, Lady Caitlin. You needn't ask."

Trust was sufficient enough for her, too.

-x-

 **a/n:** another ship i liked as a kid that i never got the chance to write until now. i really miss sinnoh! thank you for reading, and please let me know what you think if you liked.


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